Happy Birthday
by Winterblume
Summary: Well, would you look at that? It's Hermione's birthday and she gets a present from Tom.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**A/N: This fic was written for the birthday challenge in the Gutter City Tomione forum. I wrote it in Tom's POV. It's first person, which is not really a narrative I like a lot, but I guess sometimes you can't really choose. This fic is only around 3,000 long and already completed :)**

**In this fic, I skip the part we usually see in Tomiones. You know the drill: Hermione travelled back in time and she met Tom Riddle. They collided and hated each other first. Slowly they got closer and somehow Hermione managed to teach Tom what love is. So yeah, we've already had some lovey dovey couple time between those two before this fic even starts...**

**I always wondered how a Tom Riddle, who is able to feel love, would be like. I think JK said something like Voldemort is unable to feel love and such like. Well, not in this fic. Here, Tom lurvs his Hermione.**

**I warn you, there's a bit of fluff in this, but please heed the M rating. It's there for a reason (gore and blood). **

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**Happy Birthday**

**Chapter One**

"_Hermione Granger was wonderful. A pretty young lady, and smart. Oh, so smart. In my eyes, she was perfection. No-one could ever reach her and I knew I __needed__ her. I needed her close. Never had I felt like this._

_Had I truly fallen in love with this mysterious witch?_

_You may wonder why I even tell you. After all, it's not that strange. People fall in love all the time. For me, though, it was strange, even out of character. I have always scrunched up my nose at all those love-drunken fools as they lose sight of what's really important in life. I admit, I even used their short-sightedness at times and exploited their weakness. That was before Hermione came along. Before I joined their ranks. After that, every time I looked at her, I knew it. Yes. Yes, I did love her with all my heart. And the best thing was that she loved me as well._

_I have to tell you that I am not a very loveable person. I know that and I don't especially care. I am very good at cleverly hiding my true self behind a charming mask. It's easy to make girls fall in love with that mask. Soon they would do anything just to be in my favour. Only one peek behind my façade of lies, though, and they would run away in terror. Hermione was different. She loved me. I had abandoned the mask around her and she didn't run. Sure, there were a lot of things about me that she didn't approve of. Still, for some reason, she was able to accept me and she loved me._

_~.~.~_

My eyes sought her out as she sat at the desk in our living room, pouring over yet another book. Everything was so peaceful. She was always happiest when reading, Hermione. A fond smile drifted over my face and I walked over to her. She still hadn't noticed me so I drew her attention to me with placing a soft kiss on the crown of her head. Hermione looked up and instantly a smile blossomed on her features.

'How about we go out for dinner?' I asked her. 'I'm way too lazy to make something.'

Hermione nodded and easily agreed. Still smiling, she abandoned her book and stood up. Her arm snaked around my waist and she gave me a quick hug. My heart skipped a beat and I bent down and pecked her on the lips. I loved how easy it was to live with Hermione. Our relationship had solidified and we were incredibly close. I've never been this close to another human being and I loved Hermione all the more for it.

We left our flat and stepped on Knockturn Alley. Through the corners of my eyes I could see Hermione's mouth tighten into a thin, disapproving line. She didn't say anything, but I knew she hated that we lived in Knockturn. It was a point of many arguments. I, on the other hand, liked our flat. It was cheap and rather close to Borgin and Burkes. Hermione despised Knockturn and all that it stood for. Consecutively, she also didn't like the flat.

'Do you want to go to the Leaky Cauldron?' I asked, trying to take her mind off Knockturn.

I was successful. Hermione beamed up at me and declared that she was really in the mood for some Shepherd's Pie. Her mood lifted, she then jumped into an explanation of the problem she was currently working on at the Department of Mysteries. I was proud of Hermione that she had managed to join the Unspeakables. It was only her first year, but already her boss and colleagues were quite taken with her. Of course they would be. Hermione was great, after all.

We had already entered the Leaky Cauldron and sat at a table as Hermione stopped her monologue. She blushed adorably as she realized that she had not even given me a chance to interrupt her flow of words. I really didn't mind, though. I liked listening to her. Bashfully, she inquired about my day at work.

'Nothing special.' I shrugged. 'Burkes wants me to visit Hepzibah Smith once again. There's a collection of brooches he would love to get his hands on.'

A troubled look crossed Hermione face as I said it. I wasn't quite sure why. I had visited Hepzibah Smith before in order to secure a good deal for Burkes. I didn't know why Hermione disliked Smith so much. Maybe it was my job in general that she didn't like. It was another point of argument. Hermione had told me on multiple occasions that she didn't want me to work at Borgin and Burkes. Of course she was right. I could easily find something better, but working with them had a lot of perks I didn't yet want to abandon. I didn't like, though, how upset Hermione was about my career choice. I reached over the table and grabbed her hand. My thumb soothed over the skin at the back of her hand as I told her softly,

'I love you. You know that, right?'

I was still surprised how that statement wasn't a lie anymore. Hermione smiled at me and pressed my hand in return."

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	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

_"You still might not understand what Hermione meant to me. I met her during my final year at school when she transferred to Hogwarts. She was an irksome disturbance in my life at first. She destroyed the peace of my mind and picked battles with me while others wouldn't even dare speak to me. She challenged me in ways that I had forgotten were possible. I hated her for it._

_My reaction was to attack and my expectation to win. Some of the battles I indeed won, others I surprisingly lost. The strangest thing was that Hermione never bowed down. I could do whatever I wanted, she would not surrender. I suppose at one point my hatred turned into obsession. The witch was on my mind constantly._

_How I ended up loving her, though, I will never understand. I never planned for this – for her – to happen. And believe me, I had planned my future very thoroughly. Then Hermione came along and she changed everything. It took me almost the whole time of our seventh year, but in the end I accepted her and the change in my life. I don't regret it at all._

_~.~.~_

Hermione smiled at me brightly, her white teeth glinting merrily. As a response a smile curled my own lips. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in. I pressed my mouth over her own, engaging her in a deep kiss. We were lying on our bed, naked and exhausted but thoroughly satisfied from our previous activity.

Hermione snuggled into my side and wrapped an arm around my chest. It was almost a possessive gesture. I felt the warmth of her body against mine and a wonderful feeling of content washed over me. I was truly blessed to have someone like Hermione by my side. I had never wished for this, but now that I had her closeness I would never let it go.

Sometimes, though, I wondered what Hermione got out of this. She wasn't like me. She could easily find love somewhere else. Her life already was full of love. She had told me about her past. Her parents, her ex-boyfriend, her friends, they had all loved her. I ran my fingers gingerly over her soft skin and hesitantly asked,

'You know I did a lot of vile things in my past. I'm not even sure I regret them… How can you stay with me?'

Hermione smiled up at me. Her fingers gently brushed over my cheek before they ran through my hair. Her voice was so soft, so full of love, as she told me that she trusted me and would never leave me behind. I couldn't help but return her smile. I believed her. She was there for me. No-one had ever been there for me. They all always wanted something in return. Not Hermione. She was just there for me. She didn't expect anything from me. I had never felt safer.

I laughed softly, a feeling of happiness swelling in my chest. Gently, I draped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer still. It felt so natural how her body moulded against mine. Hermione sighed contently and leaned her head against my chest, snuggling comfortably against me.

'Do you remember how we met?' I asked, still smiling widely.

Hermione nodded and teased me that she would never forget that day. I chuckled and pressed a kiss against her temple.

'I almost cursed you back then,' I bantered playfully. 'You were such a horrible know-it-all. Just popping up out of no-where and making a mess of everything.'

Of course, Hermione quickly denied, poking a reprimanding finger into my side. Still, there was amusement lighting up her pretty face as she berated me.

'I'm glad you did,' I interrupted her, no taunt in my voice anymore. 'I'm glad you came to Hogwarts. I don't even care anymore where you came from. I'm just glad to have you.'

Hermione smiled then and kissed me on the lips. I liked hearing her promise that she would never leave me again."

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	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

_"Do you know the feeling when you want something so desperately, you don't even care that it's going to be bad for you? I had the same thing before. I grew up in an orphanage and never knew my parents. My mother was dead and no-one knew who my father was. It was years later that I found out he was still alive. My father had abandoned me. He knew I existed but had left me in an orphanage. As I found out that he was still alive I wanted to see him. I knew it would be bad for me and that it would probably hurt me, but I didn't care: I wanted to see my father._

_It doesn't matter what became of it. The important thing to understand is that there are desires that we cannot ignore. Even if our minds and logic tell us that we should desist, it's simply impossible. Even if it will hurt us or even break us, we will still follow that burning urge._

_Hermione was one such urge for me._

_I knew she would burn me and change me, but I still wanted her. Maybe I would change her too. I'm pretty sure she knew I was bad for her, but she couldn't resist either. In that aspect, we fit together so well. I wouldn't let her go and she wouldn't let me go. We were connected. Do you think it is love that binds us together? It sounds like something desirable, doesn't it? When so many people insist that it is the strongest force of nature, one is almost inclined to agree._

~.~.~

It was Hermione's birthday and I was feeling giddy. I had a present for her. I had wanted to give it to her for quite some time now. I was so excited to see the look on her face when I could finally give it to her. A smile curled my lips as I strode over to the girl. Her eyes glinted merrily as she spotted me. My smile turned into a smirk as I could also see desire crossing her face while her gaze wandered over my form. As I reached her I slid my hand against the back of her neck and pulled her closer. Her eyes fluttered shut as I placed a kiss against her full lips.

'Happy birthday,' I whispered, still holding her close.

Ha, she was surprised that I knew. Did she think I would forget?

I whisked Hermione away from the Ministry and into Muggle London. She was surprised and, I think, deeply moved as I led her to a Muggle restaurant. She knew how much I disliked anything Muggle. I never entered the Muggle part of any town if I could help it. Hermione on the other hand loved the Muggle culture. It wasn't surprising, considering her family background.

Of course, for a long time her blood status had disgusted me. I am ashamed to admit how I tormented Hermione over it. She forgave me, though, and I don't mind anymore that she is Muggleborn.

'Do you like it?' I asked her as we sat in the cosy restaurant.

She beamed at me over the soft light of the candle and told me how happy she was and that she really loved my choice. I felt content with her happiness. As we ate we chatted about this and that. My thoughts were elsewhere, though. I couldn't get Hermione's present out of my mind. I wanted to give it to her right away, but I had told myself to wait until we were back home.

Hermione was in high spirits as we finally made our way back to our flat. She didn't even frown at the dark figures loitering Knockturn Alley. As we entered our flat, I quickly pushed Hermione down on our couch, engaging her in a deep kiss. She returned my affections eagerly.

I ran my hands over her body, enjoying her closeness. I could barely wait to finally give my present to her. I closed my eyes, sighed contently and buried my face in her curly hair, her sweet smell filling my nostrils. Hermione's scent was incredible. Flowery, light and pleasant. I pressed kisses against her hot skin, tasting her and running my tongue over her. She felt so alive, so close and _here_. Her body heat was intoxicating.

'I love you,' I whispered before I kissed her again.

She smiled and whispered the same oath. I felt her breath fanning over my face. Then she leaned in and again engaged me in a kiss. I pulled her body closer, holding her tightly.

It was time to give her my present. I felt so nervous."

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	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

_"Do you think monsters exist? I'm not talking of some mystical beast or nameless dark creature. I mean humans. People, like you and me. Are there people who simply are monsters and by definition evil? Or is our perception of 'evil' just a mirror of our society telling us what not to do?_

_Cainism is a behaviour that can be observed in several bird species. For example, under certain conditions the oldest and strongest chick in a nest of Ospreys will proceed to attack the younger chicks. The oldest will push them, bully them and cruelly peck them until they die. In the end, although quite brutal, the fratricide is a regulation mechanism. During periods of food shortage, it ensures that the strongest hatchling will survive as opposed to the starvation of all of them._

_If they were humans, though, and one child would proceed to merciless and remorselessly kill his brothers and sisters, would we not call it a horrible crime, committed only by the most demented and cruel of individuals? I'm sure many would call such an incident the work of evil. If it's not hate or malintent, it's madness and a sickness of the mind. Evil comes in many different versions._

_Maybe it's our species' curse that we have the cognitive ability to invent 'evil' in the first place._

~.~.~

Hermione's birthday had to be special. My present had to be personal. She was too important to me to treat her otherwise. Hermione deserved closeness and love. I didn't know if _I_ really deserved _her_ love, but she did mine.

My love, my devotion and my intimacy was all hers.

I wouldn't use a curse or spell. I needed her close, I told you that before. I needed touch. I needed to feel the resistance as my knife pushed against her skin. I applied more pressure and then I could feel the moment as the tissue of her skin surrendered to my insistence and my blade slid through, cutting deeper into her. Deeper and always closer to me. Blood-red, her body opened up for me. It stained my silver blade and then my fingers. She didn't want to die. I would never blame her for the fight she put up. Hermione was incredible even now, you must understand that. My fingers were so slippery and wet, I had to grip the knife's handle tightly. Her breath was still there, only now it was heavy and rattling. I don't think she understood. She asked and I soothed her gently,

'It's going to be alright. I love you.'

I cut deeper. The human body is a wondrous machine. Everything is intertwined, aiming to maintain the difficile equilibrium of life. Even if the brain shuts down, the body will fight to exist as long as possible. It doesn't know the difference between years and seconds.

I had sliced open her neck, creating a crevice that nature had not designed. I was so close to her now. It made me smile and a fond feeling blossomed in my chest. The hilt of my knife was warm from the heat of my body and the blade warm from her blood. It was such a good feeling to have her so closer.

I loved Hermione. So so much.

I angled the blade slightly. Her body convulsed as I guided the knife down. I cut down between her breasts and through the bony plate in her chest. It was hard and I heard a crunching noise as the blade crushed the bone. I ran my blade down the full length of her chest until I sliced into the skin of her belly. Then I flung the knife away from me. It clattered on the floor on the other side of our living room. I didn't care. It was a crutch anyway.

My eyes were fixed on Hermione. Did I ever mention how beautiful she was? Not many people could see her beauty, but I always could. Now was no different. Her eyes were chocolate brown as they stared up at me and through me. There was no rattling sound anymore. Everything was still and captured in the perfect moment. Her hair was usually a bushy and untameable mess. Now the sticky blood had clotted around her curls and calmed them down. She would have liked it. I did.

I bent over her and lowered my head to hers. Shortly I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. I could smell it now. It still was Hermione, just a bit different. Heavy and metallic, the smell encased me, smeared over the both of us like a thin film on skin. I could almost taste it on my tongue. Sweet and coppery. I re-opened my eyes and smiled at her. She didn't react but I knew she loved me too. My hand cupped her face as I gingerly brushed my mouth against hers. She was so soft and I enjoyed nibbling at her fat lower lip. My hand left her cheek and skimmed down. My fingers met the sticky cleft at her neck and, lower still, I could feel the slash that now opened her chest.

My lips still engaged her in a tender kiss as I allowed my hand to slip into the cut in her chest. The bony splinters scratched over my skin. I didn't mind at all and soon I could feel the thick muscle that sat at the centre of her chest. Maybe it had stopped beating now, but it was still warm. We were so close now. My fingers caressed her inside and I didn't know where I ended and she began.

My lips still touched hers as I whispered softly, 'Happy birthday, Hermione. I love you.'

This time Hermione didn't reply, but it was okay. I knew."

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